P&E Exam
by the godsister
Summary: P&E's final exam is always the most exciting for the Gallagher Academy, but Bex can sometimes get a little TOO into training. Follow the story of this most entertaining exam. T for language. Ally Carter owns all. Set before Don't Judge a Girl
1. Bex's Training Regimen

**Hey everyone! This is my second fanfic, but I'm telling you now, it has absolutely nothing to do with my other story (GuardianEqual). The summary doesn't really do it justice, so don't go thinking the story is all about Bex. It's gonna be way better than the summary leads it to be.**

**I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: Ally Carter owns all, I can only dream. This is the only disclaimer I'm putting up, just so you know.**

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This is the time of year when every Gallagher Girl trains for the P&E Cumulative Exam. P&E stands for Protection and Enforcement, and this class's end of the year exam is the test that we all look forward to; everyone in the school trains for weeks on end preparing for this test. Even the new seventh graders are always excited about the test, and they have no clue what is coming!

There are some pros and cons about the P&E Cumulative Exam we take every year. For one, you are allowed to fight with teachers without getting a detention: PRO.

On the other hand, you don't get to choose which teacher you fight with, so you may very well end up fighting Miss Deanna, the P&E instructor: CON.

You can hit the aforementioned teacher as hard as you want. For credit (still no detention): PRO.

Said teacher may hit you back. Harder. Especially if it's Mr. Smith, who, as you may or may not know, is the most paranoid and most wanted agent in the CIA: CON.

Then again, you can also beat up all the annoying freshmen who whisper about you when they think you aren't around to hear them whispering: PRO.

It really is ALL the freshmen. They may only be inexperienced freshmen, but they go for all the cheap shots, like tickling and whatnot: CON.

Nothing will stop the way I feel about the exam, I love it. I love every single moment of it. The bruises and the fat lips. I even love the scared-shitless looks Mr. Moskowitz will give me for the next week, no matter how mean that sounds.

What I don't love, however, is Bex's pro-activeness towards training.

The kitchen staff makes us gourmet meals for every meal, every day, and when Bex has me in training, I can't touch any of it. And it's only me she has in training, too. I'm the only one she does this to. Why? Because Macey is exempt from the exam because her father is a politician and she has to appear publicly for his campaign trail. (In case you didn't know, Macey's dad, Senator McHenry, is running for vice president on Senator Winters's ticket this year.) In Senator McHenry's defense, though, it is actually quite difficult to explain to the general public why your sixteen-year-old daughter (who attends an elite boarding school for girls) has a black eye. Even if you are a politician.

Liz isn't exempt from the exam like Macey is, but she is allowed to take a separate P&E test with the rest of the girls on the research track. It makes sense when you think about it, sort of.

Bex in training is scary. Like when Mr. Solomon is in his I'm-so-pissed-off-I'll-make-you-fight-off-twelve-angry-Rottweilers-for-a-grade mood scary. And let me tell you: THAT IS SOMETHING NO ONE WANTS TO ENCOUNTER, EVER! At this point, every teacher has stopped trying to give us work to do. They are fully aware of the fact that we won't do any of the work they give us, anyway. Besides, they have to train, too, or else Madame Dabney might end up in one of Bex's chokeholds again. (Eighth grade year, but we won't get into any details.)

This year we are sophomores, and she OBVIOUSLY thinks this means that we have to train 24/7. (Not that she didn't already have me training 24/7.) It is a nice thought, really it is, but it is utterly crazy. Every morning she wakes me up at six o'clock to run two laps around Gallagher. I know, I know. You're probably thinking that we're just wimpy, "Two laps?! That's it? Cammie, you baby!" But Gallagher's campus is about two and a half miles around, so we pretty much run five miles every morning. At six o' clock. IN THE MORNING. But wait, there's more!

We then descend into the depths of Sublevel One. Somehow Bex has managed to sweet talk Mr. Solomon into meeting us down there every morning to help us weight train. Now, I would normally have no problem with this, (close contact with Joe Solomon, HELLO!) except for the fact that she has also refused to let me shower, or change, or even deodorize before meeting with him. (In other words, we are sweaty and probably smelly, too.) Weight training takes us at least an hour every morning, and at that point I am ready to hop right back into bed, but NO! We need to go spar for half an hour in the P&E barn before classes start for the day.

Sparring is fun. Sparring with friends is even more fun, because you finally have a reason to hit them as hard as you want without having to explain your motives behind hitting them. Sparring with Bex is the scariest and most dangerous thing, possibly ever. (Maybe even scarier than Mr. Solomon's previously mentioned mood.) And when you are tired, and sweaty, and SORE, sparring with Bex is not only dangerous, but it is difficult, too. I mean, Bex is my best friend, but she needs to learn to tone it down every now and then, otherwise she will end up killing me.

Every morning classes start at eight a.m. sharp. You do not show up to class late, it just isn't done; especially not here at the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. Late is not acceptable or exceptional, and we all know it. So for the two weeks that Bex has me in training, we both tend to show up to our first period class at 0758 hours (which is 7:58 a.m. for those of you who don't live on military time, like we spies do). This also means that we look like we have just gotten chased through a very dirty forest for miles every morning. Our hair is messy with clumps of dirt in it, we are sweaty and disgusting, we walk with stiff arms and legs, and our uniforms are... Let's just say our uniforms have seen better days.

Our teachers are very understanding during Bex's training, and they allow us to eat during first period. (Our teachers are all painfully aware of her strict training regimen. Everyone is, actually.) But, every morning we need to remember to ask one of the chefs to bring some food to our first period classroom; otherwise we have to wait until lunch in order to eat. And I can be grumpy when I don't get breakfast. (Something Bex had to learn the hard way.) After our early morning training, we break and attend the morning's classes, but when lunch comes around, our training continues.

In order to be allowed to have lunch, we have to successfully complete a scavenger hunt created for us by a different teacher each and every day. If we don't complete the scavenger hunt then our lunches will go bad in some unsuspecting (or completely suspecting) teacher's room. They aren't easy scavenger hunts either. We have to utilize every bit of training we have learned here at Gallagher, sometimes one skill a day, other days it can be everything we can remember. So many things can happen with these scavenger hunts that sometimes I feel like the teachers plan them for us all year. (To tell you the truth, they probably DO plan for our annual scavenger hunts.) One day (and I am NOT exaggerating here) we had to chase a guy from the maintenance department through the town of Roseville just to find out that he only had a clue as to where we had to go next in the scavenger hunt. I won't tell you everything, but what I WILL tell you is that _that_ day, we were allowed (*cough cough required cough*) to use scuba gear, rappel-o-chords, napotine patches, and some extremely adhesive duct tape. And although I hate to admit it, there are parts of the scavenger hunts that I do enjoy. Like the duct tape for one, that was fun.

But does it end there? Never in a million years will Bex ever, and I mean EVER, stop at lunch time. "Why would I ever bloody stop half-ass, Cam?" I believe that's what she said, verbatim. But I can't be sure, I only have a photographic memory to help me remember. (Sarcasm intended.)

Once we finish with classes for the day we drop our stuff and run. Literally! Bex and I leave our books and other school-type-necessities in the classroom and sprint down to the gates. It is then a footrace to see which one of us can do ten laps around Gallagher first. (It almost always ends in a tie, though, so I don't really see the point.) I mean, call me crazy, but twenty five miles is a little much after an intense day of learning and training. AND I barely eat anything all day. Of course, Bex's excuse is that food will make me fat. I mean, I may not be teeny tiny Liz, weighing in at around 100 lbs, but I only weigh 110-115 lbs (at most). There is no way I am going to be getting fat any time soon.

Our almost marathon leads to the next activity of the day: some more sparring! Whoo... Only this time it isn't me sparring Bex (thank God), it's the both of us sparring against Miss Deanna (you know, the P&E insctuctor). She doesn't necessarily go easy on us, but she won't beat the crap out of us either. Deanna will spar with us and give us tips and notes (teacherly stuff, you know). We only do that for about forty five minutes before we go back to the main building for dinner, the one meal Bex _doesn't_ make me work for. Of course, it isn't really all that easy: I am only allowed to eat 1,000 calories at dinner. This basically includes half of the main course, and no dessert! Don't get me wrong, Bex isn't a hypocrite, so she sticks to the same diet, but she also doesn't eat as much as I do on a regular basis.

After dinner it is right back to work. Down in Sublevel One, we get out the huge squishy gymnastics mats and we unroll some yoga mats. Bex says that flexibility is key when applying everything that we learn in Protection and Enforcement. All this crap about flexibility, I actually agree with. And luckily for me, yoga (and the like) are relatively calm, because we aren't out being chased around town by some random psychos hired by teachers who have way too much fun helping us train. The splits, however... I can do without the splits.

Thankfully, after the hour and a half of being stretched beyond my physical limits by Bex, we head back to our room. We finally get to shower (and exfoliate) after a very long, dirty, and tiring day. At this point Bex dims the lights. It's actually my favorite part of Bex's training that happens after the lights go down. We meditate.

Meditating is exquisite because all _I_ have to do is sit on a pillow on the floor and try not to think about anything. All I have to do is clear my mind. It is always extremely refreshing after training with Bex all day long.

Does any of this sound as crazy to you as it does to me? I believe that during training Bex exhibits three or four symptoms of the clinically insane. But insane or not, Bex is still my best friend whom I love, and in the three years prior to now that she has had me in training, we have always passed the test. _Actually_, we do better than pass, we are currently the reigning (and soon to be the defending) exam champions. Let me explain: every year, the two girls with the highest performance during the test are chosen as champions. Bex and I haven't lost yet.

I bet you are tired just having heard about what Bex puts me through, right? I'm so right. But, I'm still not done. I only told you what we do on the days that we have classes. Yes, she DOES get worse on the weekends. Well, sort of. Sunday is the easiest day of the week, but Saturday is the hardest. And if classes are canceled one day, that day is then renamed "Saturday".

Oh, so you're curious as to what happens on Saturday? Well, I guess I can tell you. I mean, you already heard about our weekdays, and you need to have at least Level Four clearance to hear about that... So I don't see a reason to NOT tell you about Saturday. I might even throw in a glimpse of Sunday for you.

Saturday is my least favorite day of the week while I'm in training. Yes, I am given two hours and fifteen minutes to shower and just do what I want to do, but two hours and fifteen minutes is about nine percent of the day. That means I have nine percent of the day to myself. The day starts off like any other day of the week, six a.m. wakeup call. Only, we do four laps around the grounds instead of our usual two. We also have an extra forty five minutes to do this, so a slower pace is something I can look forward to. At about seven fifteen we meet up with Mr. Solomon to do some intense weight training. (And by intense I mean, INTENSE. My muscles always burn when we finish.) With my burning muscles causing my reaction time to slow, I pathetically spar with Bex until she decides it's time for this morning's marathon run. When we finish and I am dying (or hoping to die, anyway), we have to do the scavenger hunt of the day! I always hope that our Saturday scavenger hunt will be easy, but you never know. I remember one Saturday when the scavenger hunt made us chase and subsequently catch a dog. The dog had the key to our lunch tied to its collar, and dogs know no boundaries. In other words, the dog almost ran out of Virginia because it could fit in the places we couldn't. Needless to say, we missed lunch that day, and Mr. Moskowitz doesn't make our scavenger hunts alone anymore.

After lunch we head back to the P&E barn for some more sparring. We spar with each other for an hour, and then with Miss Deanna for another hour. This leads us promptly to three o' clock when we get to participate in an obstacle course set up by my mother, Mr. Solomon, and Miss Deanna. We can tell that the three of them love helping us train, because the obstacle courses are always incredible. Painful and dirty, but incredible. I've always loved climbing trees and getting down 'n dirty, and their obstacle courses allow me to do just that.

And so, the fun continues! We work out for an hour before a little free time, when I can finally shower. Let me tell you how nice it is to shower when you have had layer upon layer of sweat, and mud, and other crap caked onto your skin all day. It's a nice feeling. Don't believe me? Try army crawling through the mud every couple of minutes for about five hours. And then run a marathon or two. Army crawl a little more, and you MIGHT just feel as gross as I do all day. 7:15 is when we go down to the Grand Hall for dinner, but I'm still only allowed to eat 1,000 calories. I know, it's mean, especially on the days when the kitchen staff makes crème brûlée for dessert. But I stick to the plan anyway, I don't want to risk being defeated. By ANYONE.

After dinner the day winds down with some flexibility in Sublevel One, and then some meditation up in our room.

Jealous? You shouldn't be. I remember last year when an egotistical CIA operative came and tried to keep up with our Saturday training schedule for one day. He was crying long before our lunch scavenger hunt even started. I'm proud to say that there are probably only seven people on earth who can keep up with us during Saturday training... But there is one person in particular I didn't really want to think about. He recently left me with a kiss, and it hurts whenever I think about him, so I try not to. Think about him, that is. But that's a different story, one for another day.

Every Sunday morning I wake up feeling refreshed, simply because I only have to wake up at seven o' clock. Yes, I get an extra hour to sleep! So, clearly Bex isn't completely uncontrollable. Some Sundays she even lets us have breakfast. We start the day like usual, running our laps around Gallagher. Like Saturday, we run four laps around Gallagher, but we don't have as much time to do it (especially if we splurge and have breakfast first). So when we finish our laps we go to the P&E barn to spar and to just work out. We don't weight train on Sundays, because we want to give Mr. Solomon a break every now and then. The truth is, if I hadn't stopped Bex, she would have had us weight training with him for two hours.

Lunch is even easier on Sundays, because there isn't a scavenger hunt. I'm not really sure why there isn't a scavenger hunt, but my guess is that the teachers cornered Bex in a dark room and made her give me a day off. That or she just figured that the teachers need a day to come up with scavenger hunts. I like the first scenario better, though. When we finish with lunch we spend the rest of our time training doing yoga which meshes perfectly into free time. At six thirty I am always showered and plenty tired, but nothing stops me from my dinner with Mom. I go to bed whenever I want to on Sundays, occasionally just curling up on Mom's couch. (It's more comfy than it looks.)

But then Monday morning rolls around and I wake up to the sound of Bex's screaming, as usual.

"CAMMIE GET YOUR AS—BUTT OUT OF BED!!" This was one of those days where I had fallen asleep on my mom's couch, and cursing is frowned upon by Mom. "WAKE UP! WE'VE GOT TO GET GOING!! GET UP YOU BUM! THOSE LAPS WON'T RUN THEMSELVES!" I love Bex, but she lacks in the patience department. I sit up and neatly avoid a pair of sneakers she chucks at my head. I throw her a dirty look.

"Bex, patience is a virtue." I rolled over, forgetting I was still on the couch and landed promptly on my butt. Bex started laughing at me and gave me a look that screams _even the couch wants you to get up_. I glared at her but got up anyway, figuring that it was easier than fighting. You see Bex is a morning person, and I am NOT. I stood up and caught the clothes that Bex threw at me. Once I was changed I raced after her to go run laps.

I feel like I really need to train this year, I'm not sure why.

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**Sooooo? How was it? Should I keep going? This is something I really need to know, because it was a random thought that I obsessed over for two days. I want to know if I should stop now. The only way for me to know this information is if you REVIEW!!! The green button right down there... yup, that's the one :)**

**Your feedback means a lot to me.**

**One more thing: Please please please check out the author DiVaGiRl13 she is amazing and has two incredible stories. She's probably the nicest author on here, so read and review HER stories too :D**

**happily, the godsister**


	2. Monday is My Favorite Day of the Week

**I'M BAAAACK :) Thank you to everyone for reading my story, for reviewing, and for giving me great support and criticism. I'm truly blessed to have all of you guys around! If you're holding your pitchforks ready to come at me for taking so long to review, I'd just like to explain why. It's a simple explanation, really. Junior year, college stuff, sports, music, homework, actual work, friends in crisis, friends not in crisis, a new computer, and just a whole lot of other things… Okay, it's not REALLY that simple, but I'm hoping you guys understand. Luckily, though, it won't be that long before the next update (woohoo!). Now I'll stop rambling so you can sit back, relax, and enjoy "Monday is My Favorite Day of the Week"**

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I picked myself up off the floor and ran out of the room after Bex. She was a girl on a mission, and I was not going to stand in her way. Once I caught up to her she told me there was a little surprise waiting for us. I knew this was not a surprise I should be looking forward to… And to my dismay, this was a two-part surprise… lucky me.

Part one of the surprise: an extra three laps to run. Part two? Mr. Solomon and Miss Deanna were being driven around by my mother as they threw water balloons at us. Bex really does know how to make a girl feel special.

Now, I would normally not complain about a good water balloon fight, but I'll try to help you understand why this wasn't exactly the best news in the world. First of all, this wasn't an actual fight. This was two of my highly trained teachers chucking water balloons at me as I was sprinting around the school trying to stay on my feet. This was six o'clock in the morning. We had to run twelve and a half miles. At six o'clock in the morning. And the water was COLD. At six o'clock in the morning. Now, I don't know if you can really comprehend this level of commitment to your work, even if you _do_ have at least Level Four clearance. But we managed to finish the laps in under 100 minutes (not a record, but not bad!)

After we were finished getting pelted with water balloons, we went as fast as we could down to Sublevel One, as per our usual ritual. Of course we were soaking wet, I was shivering like crazy, and as soon as we got there Mr. Solomon said, "Miss Baxter, take Miss Morgan up to your room and change into dry clothes. Now."

And this was not what Bex wanted to hear, especially because it interfered with her training schedule, and Bex is not one to waste time (I should know). "Mr. Solomon, we have to train, we can't waste time changing our stupid, insignificant little outfits!"

"Of course, how silly of me. You can just get sick and be confined to your bed for the next two weeks, which is way better than changing your "stupid, insignificant little" outfits. That won't interfere with your training _at all_. And then when the time comes to actually take the exam, you'll be so worn out from being sick that you can't possibly do well. And at that point you'll be getting your butt handed to you by a bunch of seventh graders. That's much better, now isn't it?" He said this all with a smile, which is why he's kind of my favorite teacher (just don't tell him I said that). About 1.7 seconds later Bex was dragging me into the elevator, but not before I could shoot Mr. Solomon a grateful look over my shoulder.

The rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. Unless you count the fact that Liz tripped into a suit of armor and knocked it into Gillian's sword and the school went into lockdown for an hour and seven minutes. As I said, uneventful.

After morning classes we had to do our scavenger hunt of the day, and today's was set up by Mr. Solomon and my mom, and it included scaling up the side of the building using only dental floss and duct tape. It was actually pretty fun (but PLEASE don't tell them that, I beg of you). Once we got to the roof it was hand-to-hand combat with Miss Deanna. After the hunt was finished they met us and told us that lunch was in the cafeteria with the rest of the school. (SO UNFAIR!)

At lunch my mom was giving us a few updates from the spy world (Bex's parents recently toppled a terrorist organization which was attempting to set up a government in a little village in Egypt) and making announcements about the rest of the semester. The announcements included Dr. Fibbs creating a prototypical bracelet to improve balance and coordination (Liz was looking pretty hopeful at this), Mr. Moskowitz was going to run an inorganic chemistry study session Tuesdays after classes for eighth graders in the advanced section (there was definitely some moaning from the girls in that class), the Blackthorne boys would be coming for the rest of the semester, and the sophomore class was going to be going on a field trip to CIA headquarters (cool but… I was already debriefed, I don't know how much cooler that place can get).

WAIT! THE BLACKTHORNE BOYS ARE COMING! AHHHH!

Okay, freak-out: finished. OMIGOD OMIGOD OMIGOD! That's awesome, that means Grant and Jonas and Za- hmm… Zach. I didn't know when (if?) I was ever going to see him again. He left me with a kiss, but I don't know what happens next. I know, I know. "Cammie, you have a photographic memory, you cracked CIA firewalls when you were in kindergarten, how can you not know what to say to a silly boy?" But, here's the thing. I've only ever had one boyfriend before, and he wasn't a super-adorable-and-ruggedly-handsome-spy-in-training-who-kissed-me-right-before-leaving-me-to-go-back-to-school-indefinitely. He was just a normal boy who lived in Roseville, a quaint little town that happens to be home of the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. This was totally different, and I was flabbergasted.

I looked back at my friends and they were all looking at me like, "We are SOOOO giving you a makeover when they get here." Macey even winked at me. So I threw a couple of peas at her. Not a lot, just a few. I could also feel the stares of the younger girls boring into the back of my head (okay, I could hear them whispering and giggling), so I turned around slowly with a look on my face that could kill. (If only Dr. Fibbs would finish those damned "if-looks-could-kill" glasses!)

After classes finished for the day and we ran our almost-marathon and sparred with Miss Deanna we went to dinner. All through dinner all I could hear was "Blackthorne-this" and "Blackthorne-that." I was just as excited (nervous may be a better word) as anyone else, but these conversations were going on in Swahili. While all the other girls were obsessing over what they were going to do with their hair, my friends and I were discussing CoveOps today.

"I know! It's eating me up. All he said was, 'Expect the unexpected,' I mean, how cliché is that?" Bex was freaking out. No one knew why Mr. Solomon would give us advice that Grandpa and Grandma Morgan have been giving me since I started helping them on the farm when I was seven.

After dinner Bex and I had showered and we were in our pajamas meditating when there was a knock on the door. Macey had just barely gotten off of her bed when the door busted open.

I was shocked to see Mr. Solomon standing there. We all were.

We were even more shocked when he said to us, "Grab your shoes and a jacket. We're going on a field trip."

The biggest shock of all was when he said, "We are going to pick up the Blackthorne Boys."

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**Okay, I know it was short, but I felt like I owed you something after _months_ of silence. But, anyway, DID YOU LIKE IT? HATE IT? WANT MORE? Well, unless you click that cute little green button down there and tell me what you think, I won't know whether or not to keep going.**

**But I do really hope that you liked it. And no matter what you say, there _is_ more coming, but I really do want to know what you think.**

**happily, t****he godsister (whew, that feels nice!)**


	3. Zachary Goode

**Thank you everyone who reviewed! This chapter is a little longer than the last one, and I've been working non-stop to finish it for you guys. Just a little note before you start reading... It's kinda completely a one-eighty from the rest of the story, but this isn't how it's going to be forever. Enjoy!**

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Yes. I'll repeat that for you, you don't have to ask me twice: The sophomore Covert Operations class from the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women is going on a field trip at eleven o'clock at night to pick up students from the Blackthorne Institute for Boys for another exchange.

Wow.

It didn't really process what was going on until Macey stopped all of us, Mr. Solomon included, by blocking the door. "You are NOT going anywhere until you put on actual clothing, do your hair, and maybe a little makeup!" I had actually forgotten that we were all still in our pajamas about to go get a dozen high school aged, testosterone filled boys.

But Bex clearly didn't care, "Move it or lose it, sister!"

Not that Mr. Solomon was going to let us change anyway. Because he wasn't. "Ladies," he said, "we have a schedule to keep, and if you hold us up any longer, I'm leaving you behind." And that was enough for me. I grabbed my shoes without putting them on and a sweatshirt as I followed Mr. Solomon out to the front lawn where a helicopter was waiting for us.

I slid into the helicopter next to Bex and put on my shoes while Mr. Solomon explained to us exactly how this "field trip" was going to work.

"Ladies, tonight you will be retrieving the students exchanging from Blackthorne for the semester. Each one of you will receive the file of one student whom you must track down and successfully get into this helicopter. Each student has a cover that they will be using, whether they will know you and trust you or not is completely up to chance. They all know who is supposed to be tracking them, so I'm warning you that they may be doing their best to hide from you. Those of you getting assigned to a senior… Good luck."

At this point we touched down in the middle of a completely darkened street outside a nightclub.

"As you may have guessed, you will be going into a nightclub. Along with the file on the student you are tracking is a cover identity for yourself. Memorize it; give it back to me before you enter. Also, I know you are all in your pajamas. There's twenty dollars with each file. Use it wisely.

"Don't come back unless you have your target, if you don't get back in time, I will leave you. Don't be stupid; you have exactly ninety minutes to succeed. Have fun, your time starts now!" With that he laid out a stack of manila envelopes with our names on them and stepped out of the helicopter. I quickly found mine and jumped out of the way to read it over and get going.

_**OPERATION: BLACKTHORNE NIGHTCLUB EXTRACTION**_

OPERATIVE AGENT: CAMERON ANN MORGAN, SOPHOMORE aka "THE CHAMELEON"

TARGET: GRANT NEWMAN, SOPHOMORE aka "THE CHARMER"

COVER: LESLIE PUGET [what the heck? Can't I have a normal name with MY initials?]

AGE: 19 [whoaaaah]

GRANT'S OFF-ON GIRLFRIEND (CURRENTLY "ON") [this wasn't meant for Bex by any chance, was it?]

NOTES:

GRANT IS THE ONLY TARGET YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH

NO TARGET OR OPERATIVE IS EQUIPPED WITH A COMMUNICATIONS UNIT

I got Grant? I thought I was going to get Zach... Wait! Who got Zach? Not like I can ask anyone, damn it. Everyone is in character. IT IS SO FRUSTRATING BEING A TEENAGE GIRL SLASH SPY-IN-TRAINING!

But I have to focus on the task at hand, which is currently using this measly twenty dollar bill to look respectable so I can enter into an unknown nightclub to find a guy and get him to go into the helicopter at nearly midnight. It's going to be a good night…

Exactly seven minutes into the mission I walked into the nightclub to look for Grant so I could finish this mission and go home to bed.

I know what you're probably thinking, "But, Cammie, you're in your pajamas! You can't go in looking like that!" But alas, in that seven minutes I was able to find a store and buy a ten dollar dress and a dollar pair of flip flops (in case you didn't know, I am QUITE the bargain hunter). I stashed my pajamas back in the helicopter, quickly braided my hair and ran into the club (after showing my I.D. to the bouncer and flashing him a quick smile).

The club was packed with people, the music was too loud for my liking, and it smelled like beer and cigarettes. No matter, I am the Chameleon and NOTHING will stop me from finishing this mission (because we all know how WELL that worked the first time we encountered the Blackthorne boys). (Okay, one Blackthorne Boy in particular, get off my case!)

The first thing I did was try to think like Grant Newman, the girl-crazy, completely hot, loveable bonehead guy that I got to know last semester. My first thought, trying to impress the "ladies" on the dance floor.

Surprise, surprise, I was right. No, actually, I was surprised. I thought it would take two or three ideas before I found him. Lucky for me, playing his girlfriend would be easy, especially considering he was dancing in such close proximity to about nine other girls.

Using the skills I've learned as a pavement artist, I tried to blend in as I moved closer to him. I didn't go crazy with the dancing, but I danced enough not to stick out like a sore thumb. Eventually I was in the group of girls ogling at Grant, but none of them seemed to notice me. Not even my BOYFRIEND (ouch!).

Breaking strongly into character, I stopped dancing and stepped forward. Trying to seem like a pissed-off girlfriend, I shoved Grant away from the girls and said, "Hell-oo? Can you not see me you jerk? I came here tonight just to have a good time with you, and you ignore me ALL NIGHT? Some boyfriend you are!" The look of pure shock on his face was amazing.

"Shit- Leslie? When did you show up?" I could tell the question was directed more towards Cammie, but she was waiting in the helicopter. Leslie was the only person here.

"What do you care, all you _do _care about is 'having a good time!' Well I hope you have a great time, WITHOUT ME!" I started to storm off, but he grabbed my wrist before I could get very far (actually, before I could get anywhere. I hadn't moved an inch).

Grant smoothly gathered me into a hug and said, "I'm sorry baby doll, please forgive me?"

At that point we could both feel the stares burning metaphoric holes in my flesh, coming from nine not-so-happy club-goers.

"Grant, why don't we go somewhere a little less crowded? Like outside," I tried to hint. Much to my dismay, even though Grant knew me, he was going to be stubborn as all hell about staying in the club. Just my luck.

He dragged me over to a table with two chairs and a leftover beer bottle and made me sit down. At least from here I could check out how my other classmates were doing. From the looks of it, Grant had a similar notion, because we both seemed to be scanning the crowd.

Quickly I saw Anna Fetterman trying to convince some Blackthorne senior that she actually was Anna Fetterman, because he didn't believe that a girl that tiny could _actually_ be the spy who was supposed to track him down. Poor Anna! I also saw Tina, Mick and Kim wandering around the club looking like lost puppies. I guess their targets really didn't want to be found. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bex pull poor Jonas out of the club. I also saw Eva, Jessica and Courtney talking to an assortment of guys.

BUT I DIDN'T SEE ZACK ANYWHERE!

I could feel my heart starting to beat faster, which is really bad when you are a spy-in-training.

"Honey," I said, "can we maybe go outside? It's starting to get hot in here." The sad part is that it wasn't a lie. I felt like I just stepped into a sauna.

At least with my actual reactions occurring, Grant couldn't say I was faking it. So being the dutiful pretend-boyfriend that he is, he walked me outside.

"Ca- uh, Leslie, is everything okay? You look like you're about to be sick…" And to tell you the truth, I felt like I was about to be sick. But if I wanted to get him into that helicopter, I needed to up the stakes.

"I don't feel too good," I started, but at that very moment my knees went weak as I "fainted." Grant caught me and swung me into his arms.

Under his breath I could hear him muttering, "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. What am I going to do? Shiiiit… Solomon! He'll know what to do. Oh, but he's at the helicopter. I can't go there, I'll fail the mission. Whatever. It's just a stupid school thing." With that he took off towards the helicopter hidden by the back entrance of the club.

If it weren't in my future job description to lie, I might have actually felt bad about tricking Grant like that. But my need for answers was far greater than my need for a clean conscience.

Once Grant placed me down in the helicopter I opened my eyes and smiled mischievously at him. The look on his face was worth a thousand words. Most of them were angry words, but they were words none-the-less.

To try to make him feel better I said, "Grant, I really did feel sick for a moment. Your chivalry was not wasted. Thank you."

He was trying to be aloof and distant, but he did crack a tiny smile, "Any time. Just give me a little warning next time? And don't make me completely abandon my mission!"

"Yeah, but that was _my_ mission! Friends?"

He smiled, "Of course!" But then he had to go on, "So what's wrong? And don't tell me you're sick." Damn, when did he become so observant? This is Grant we're talking about here.

"Well…" I started.

"Just spit it out- Oh." He looked at me with a glint in his eye. "You're wondering where Zach is." But as soon as he said that he started fidgeting and his eyes wouldn't stay on one thing for more than a few seconds.

"Grant," I warned him, "where is Zach?" It appeared that he didn't hear me. I turned into my mother for a few seconds, "Grant, I know you know where Zach is. So you tell me right now!" He glanced up at me but quickly looked away.

"Grant, what happened to Zach?"

He finally answered me, "Uh… pass?"

"NO YOU MAY NOT 'PASS!' WHERE IS HE?"

* * *

**WEEELLLL? How was it? Say that again? No, unfortunately I _can't_ read your mind... but if you REVIEW I will know exactly how you feel... So, what do ya say? Help a sister out!**

**happily, the godsister**


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